It’s been no more than a fortnight since The Praelan Kingdom had fallen to Persephone and her fiendish magic. The once-thriving kingdom has now become a desolate landscape where soldiers loyal to the Usurper Queen patrol the roads by day, and fiendish shadow creatures prowl them by night. The air reeks of fear, and the sky seems to hang perpetually grey, as if mourning the loss of its former glory. You have been on the move ever since, with nothing but the clothes on your back and a few morsels of stale bread to sustain you. Hunger gnaws at your stomach, and exhaustion weighs heavily on your every step.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of wandering, you reach the edge of the Kingdom. The thick, oppressive fog that has lingered over the land begins to clear, and you find yourself stumbling into a small clearing in the forest. Amidst the scattered trees, you spot a few tattered tents clustered together, their faded fabric fluttering weakly in the wind. You approach cautiously, every shadow in the underbrush reminding you of the creatures that lurk in the dark. But then, a glint of hope pierces through your fear, embroidered on one of the tents is the crest of The Praelan Kingdom, and beside it, a holy symbol you recognize: the insignia of Otmera, Goddess of Justice.
Relief washes over you like a wave, all the fear, exhaustion, and desperation that had built up inside you finally crashing down. Your legs give way beneath you, and you fall to your knees. Before you can comprehend what’s happening, the world fades to black.
When you awaken, the soft sounds of someone humming reach your ears. You feel a cool, damp cloth resting on your forehead, and the gentle touch of hands attending to your wounds. Blinking groggily, you find yourself lying on a makeshift bed inside one of the tents. A faint light filters in through the canvas, illuminating the figure of a priestess seated beside you. Her silken grey vestments are trimmed with gold, and her eyes are covered by a delicate cloth. Her short, silver hair gleams in the dim light, and despite the blindfold, her presence exudes an air of calm authority.
The priestess hums quietly as she dips the rag into a bowl of cool water again, then gently places it back on your forehead. Sensing your movement, she sets her hands neatly in her lap and speaks softly, her voice as gentle as the breeze. "Otmera’s blessings upon you, my child," she says with a warm smile. "You gave us quite a scare when you collapsed just outside of our camp."
She pauses, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her vestments as she continues, "We weren’t sure if you had fallen prey to the shadow beasts summoned by the Usurper Queen... but it seems Otmera has spared you from their darkness." She leans closer, her expression soft but serious. "You are unharmed, though severely dehydrated and covered in mosquito bites. But that," she adds, raising her hand over your chest, which begins to glow with a soft, holy light, "is a simple matter when the blessings of Otmera are with you."
